


Brimstone And Ashes

by mrtransyourgender



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Gen, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrtransyourgender/pseuds/mrtransyourgender
Summary: Dro'enji suddenly find himself imprisoned in the Imperial City's Prison after being framed for a crime. He is, much to his relief, released after not even a day behind bars. Little does he know, he is immediately thrust into the crossfires of a war between the people of Tamriel and invading forces of Daedra.





	Brimstone And Ashes

“Wake up, kitty kitty,” a faraway teasing voice ripped Dro’enji from his fitful rest. It took him a moment too long to get his bearings back, leaving him blinking lots and looking around, confused. In that moment he probably appeared like he had just downed several bottles of skooma. 

The walls, floor, and ceiling were stone, no doubt uncomfortably cold and damp. There was a thin bedroll laying on the floor that he had awakened from. At the “foot” of the bedroll was a small stool and a small table, both made of wood. Both would have been far too small to fit the Pahmar-raht. Was he in a cell? 

“There’s a rat in my cell, Khajiit,” came the voice again. He looked up and ahead, past multiple sets of bars and into another cell. In the cell just across from him was a skinny Dunmer man. “A fat, tasty rat.” The mer’s eyes were wide and alert, almost crazy. “Does the kitty want it? Is the kitty hungry?” Dro’enji was hungry, yes, but he would never eat a rat from a place like this. _There’s no doubt one would get diseases from eating a prison rat_ , he thought to himself. “You’d better take whatever you can get in here, Khajiit. They don’t feed the new prisoners.” The Khajiit’s stomach rumbled. He could tell. “You’re going to die in here, kitty,” the mer said before breaking out into crazed laughter. Before he could even open his mouth to retort something back to the addled mer, Dro’enji’s ears perked at the noise of something coming down the hall. Footsteps, and voices.

“Baurus! Lock that door behind us!” came a woman’s voice.

“Yessir.” a man’s voice replied.

Both voices sounded like those of one of the races of men. _They certainly aren’t Khajiit or Argonian_ , Dro’enji thought to himself. He was unable to tell which race of man they were, however. He always mixed up the humans with each other.

“My sons… they’re dead, aren’t they?” came a third voice, this one from an especially elder man, also a human.

“We don’t know that, Sire. The messenger only said they were attacked.” The woman spoke again. Dro’enji racked his mind to remember whoever the “Sire” of this land was. He was never one to pay attention to politics, especially the politics of human lands. Perhaps the “Sire” was someone new? He would have to see.

Dro’enji was able to see them as they turned the corner into the hallway housing his and the strange Dunmer’s cells. There were four of them, which surprised him. He could have sworn he had only heard three. Although it was very possible one had simply stayed quiet. There were three guards and one very important looking man, most likely the elderly-sounding man, judging by how old he appeared. There was one guard, the woman, leading the others.

“What’s this prisoner doing here?” Asked the lady guard, most likely the captain. “This cell is supposed to be off-limits.” As they spoke with one another, Dro’enji glanced over his shoulder behind him. Nothing about his cell especially screamed “off-limits”. Perhaps they would give him a bigger table and chair? If he would be staying long, he would need them. “Stand back, prisoner,” the guard captain said, suddenly speaking with Dro’enji.

“What-?”

“Over by the window!” she ordered. Despite being almost double the human’s size, Dro’enji felt the need to obey her. Without bothering to try to ask questions, he made his way to the opposite end of his cell, just underneath the pitiful excuse for a window. Really, it was nothing more than a tiny square with a few jail cell bars. As Dro’enji stood underneath it, he wondered what the point of the bars were. No one could reach it, not even him, much less fit in the small square. Something about it made Dro’enji furious.

“Stay put, prisoner,” ordered another one of the guards. Dro’enji did not recognize his voice, so he must have been the one that had remained silent. Everyone entered the cell. The Khajiit suddenly began to feel very cramped. His cell was certainly not large enough to fit this many people in it normally. He was worried, wondering what could possibly be the reason for this great number of important-looking people crowding around in his cell.

“You… I’ve seen you…” The old man’s voice was quiet, yet Dro’enji could hear him clearly. It was almost as if the man’s very presence demanded attention. “Let me see your face…” The man slowly put his hands up to the Khajiit’s face. Dro’enji guessed he was trying to cup his face, though he had trouble finding the Khajiit’s cheeks. “You are the one from my dreams…” Dro’enji wanted to ask who this man was and why in Khenarthi’s winds was he dreaming about him, but he kept his mouth shut. Something about the guard captain scared him more than anything. “Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength.”

The old man stared deep into Dro’enji’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak. He was almost tempted to tell the man off. _I’ve got a husband and a few cubs back home, sir, so you can stop looking at my eyes like you’re expecting to find something there_ , Dro’enji thought to himself. He was too afraid to say something so brash, however, mostly due to the scary guard lady. He suddenly realized he still had his mouth open, he probably looked silly or long gone. He had to think of something to say, and fast.

“Uh… who are you?”

Nailed it.

“I am your emperor, Uriel Septim,” the old man answered. Dro’enji didn’t find the Uriel fellow familiar, though he swore he heard the word “Septim” before. “By the grace of the Gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you too, shall serve her in your own way.” Dro’enji’s ear twitched, a sign of anger. In that moment he had wished that either none of them could recognize Khajiiti facial patterns, or that they simply didn’t notice. He didn’t enjoy being told what to do. Dro’enji opened his mouth to speak again before the guard captain butted in.

“Please, Sire, we must keep moving.” As she spoke she walked to Dro’enji’s side and pushed a stone block further into the wall it was residing in, creating a dull scratching noise that offended Dro’enji’s ears. He realized why his cell was off-limits. A similar horrible scratching noise could be heard, though this one was unfortunately much louder. Dro’enji quickly covered his ears, earning wary glances from the guards.

“Looks like this is your lucky day,” one of the guard men told him. “Just stay out of our way.” With that, the man pushed past him. Dro’enji let out a quiet huff but decided to forgive the human anyway and follow the group down the dark, twisting tunnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on my play through of Oblivion. I have no mods installed, but I do have all of the DLC, so we might see some of that in future chapters ;)


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